


A Night To Treasure

by Viken2592



Series: Best space boyfriend - Shakarian oneshots [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Garrus Vakarian, Background Blasto, F/M, Fluff, Interspecies Relationship(s), Joker has no chill, OTP Feels, Oral Sex, Popping heat sinks, Pre-Collector base scene, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viken2592/pseuds/Viken2592
Summary: My version of the scene before the Collector base - 100 per cent self-indulgent Shakarian smuff*.*smut and fluff
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: Best space boyfriend - Shakarian oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895212
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	A Night To Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Garrus’ epic ME2 line “It’ll either be a night to treasure, or a horrible inter-species awkwardness thing.” 
> 
> English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

“Hey.” Shepard took the hand Garrus had a moment ago gingerly placed on her shoulder. Garrus lifted his head to look her in the eyes. His heart rested in his chest like wrapped in a warm blanket, calmed by the soft atmosphere between them, by how she had leaned in to touch foreheads.

Damn, he was nervous when he stepped into her cabin, rambling about vids and her waist being supportive (ugh). Hooking up with women was something he usually never agonized over; it came as natural as sparring or shooting mercs - only more fun. The fact that Shepard was Human played a part in why he was in a state, but most of all, she was his commander, and his friend. It would be more than just a hookup. What it was he couldn’t say, but it was there, manifest despite its unclear shape.

He didn’t want to mess it up - whatever this was. He hadn’t anticipated how the night would take the turn it did, with him confessing just how deep his insecurities ran, and how she managed to say and do the exact right things to calm his nerves.

“How about we watch a vid?” Shepard said in a soft voice that was unusual for her. Some of Garrus’ nervousness leapt back into his chest. She rolled her eyes with a smile at the way he must have bounced his eyebrow plates. “Bad choice of words. Not one of those vids. A movie.”

She stepped further into her cabin towards a sofa placed underneath the glass structure of her many models of spaceships, still holding his hand. He snorted a laugh, relieved she hadn’t thrown him out for his lack of romantic skills, and let her lead him.

“What kind of movie?”

He sunk on to the cool leather cushions and placed the bottle of wine he brought on the table with a clink.

“Believe it or not,” she said with an eyebrow arched, “I’ve never seen any of the Blasto movies.”

“Really?” Garrus flared his mandibles in a grin, something he could do nowadays without flinching in pain. “You’re in for a treat. They didn’t get one aspect of Spectre training right; it’s hilarious. That Hanar would be nothing but minced tentacles after five minutes in real action.”

Shepard smiled; the soft light of a lamp above gleamed in one of her front teeth and reflected in her hair to make it glow. The sight made Garrus’ heart behave like syrup, fluid and sweet.

“Once we’ve stopped the Collectors and sent the Reapers back to dark space, maybe we could switch careers to movie consultants? Show them how things are done in the Spectre business?”

“Yeah, the Council would love that,” he muttered, laughter bubbling in his chest. Her omni-tool lit up on her forearm; a screen lowered from an opening in the roof (impressive, Garrus thought) and a series of movie titles flickered on the surface.

“The first one?”

“Shoot,” he said and shifted to sink more comfortably onto the sofa. He had seen the first Blasto movie once already, but he didn’t mind re-watching it with her. Just as the intro scenes rolled onto the screen, Shepard placed her hands on the cushion and stood.

“I almost forgot,” she said and advanced up the small stairs past her aquarium where colorful fish swam through a stream of bubbles, their flowing fins like delicate shawls behind them. She disappeared behind her desk, and a moment later, the sound of a door opening and a clinking of bottles reached Garrus’ ears. _She must have a small fridge there_ , he thought.

“Here,” she said when she returned and handed him a brown bottle with a sheen of cool moisture clinging to the glass. She carried wine flutes and a bag containing something white in her other hand. “It’s dextro beer. I uh, I bought it on Illium. In case you ever decided to visit my cabin.”

Garrus accepted the beer in stunned silence, as much as from the fact that it was Cipritine ale ( _his favourite - how did she know?_ ) as from seeing a faint shade of pink on Shepard’s cheeks. He must be the first person alive to see her blush.

“Thanks,” he croaked and cleared his throat. He leaned to grab the wine bottle and opened it to pour some of the amber liquid into Shepard’s flute. “What’s that?” he asked with a nod to the bag with the white, peculiar bits of something that looked like tiny clouds.

“It’s popcorn. A common human snack. They’re not dextro, but Mordin said they don’t have any nutrition in them besides salt, so you should be able to have some without a stomach ache, or anything. Hey,” she said to the label on the wine bottle, “it’s dual chirality wine! I didn’t even know that existed!”

“Bought in on the Citadel.” Garrus pinched one of the curious cloud snacks between his fingers and popped it into his mouth - salty, airy, not bad. “Even there, it’s hard to come by. You’d think there’d be more dual chirality foodstuff these days.”

“Still reluctant to try dextro noodles?”

“My mouth isn’t designed for slurping ropes.” Garrus pinched his mandibles to his face in a mock imitation of indignation. “Turian teeth are designed to… bite.” He gave her his best impression of a predatory smile and waggled his eyebrow plates.

She threw a popcorn at him. It jovially bounced from his chest to the floor between their feet. His chuckle diminished as the commercials for travel agencies (visit Nevos!) and fashion brands (Asari design made for goddesses) ended, and the movie started. To his surprise, Shepard made a motion, small but undeniable, to sit closer. It was only natural to lift his arm around her shoulders. He was barely able to contain the rumble of satisfaction to his subharmonics at how she leaned into him, her eyes riveted to the screen and hand digging the bag for more popcorn.

Half an hour later, Shepard muffled a mix between a groan and laughter into a pillow, strands of her copper hair muzzled by the cushion. On the screen, Blasto the first Hanar Spectre cooly delivered his most iconic line, “Enkindle this,” firing his M-5 Carnifex heavy pistols into the face of a Vorcha while embracing his Asari lover with a tentacle. The Asari fluttered her eyelashes at her semi-solid boyfriend with a serene smile.

“This is so bad.” Shepard’s voice came out in a whine behind her pillow of shame. “Did they _really_ base this on me?”

“C’mon, it has its moments.” Garrus tried his best to sound serious despite the laughter that rolled in his stomach. “That space shuttle chase scene was better than I remember it. Plus, the Asari girlfriend is quite convincing. I’ve seen Liara look at you like that a couple of times -”

Garrus’ words were interrupted by a pillow to his face. He parried, chuckling. Everyone in the SR-1 crew knew about Liara’s unyielding affection for Shepard during their hunt for Saren. Still, Shepard never encouraged anything beyond friendship between them.

Garrus would like to think it partly had to do with him. It was unlikely though: it would mean Shepard had a thing for him already back on the old Normandy. A guy can dream.

Garrus peeked at her through his visor. When did this - whatever that had him sitting here beside her, close like he hadn’t seen her with anyone else - started? On Omega? After that?

Before?

He observed her observing the screen, taking the last sip from her flute before pouring herself more wine. A patch of moisture gleamed on her lower lip, and her eyes moved with the scenes played out before her.

Damn, he felt good. He had forgotten entirely about the Collector base, delighted at this moment. The Cipritine ale spread a slow warmth through his veins and Shepard’s body leaned into his. He was glad he had mustered the courage to go to Shepard's cabin.

She noticed the way he wasn’t looking at the movie screen and turned to face him, her expression curious. It was the most natural thing in the Galaxy to place his hand on her jaw and angle her face to kiss her.

She widened her eyes before her lashes sunk. Her lips tasted like wine. Garrus’ brain sparked with the realisation what he was doing, but he was enjoying himself far too much to have any regrets. When they came apart, her pupils were blown up, and her breath came out short. Her eyes wandered from his eyes to his mouth and back.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

Instead of replying, Shepard grabbed his collar and swung a leg over his hips to straddle him. His brain short-circuited at having her on top, at how little she weighed compared to Turian women (having no exoskeleton helped, he guessed), and at how good she smelled; like faint whiffs of spice and warm summer days. Most of all, he couldn’t think of anything but the soft press of her breasts against his chest plates. _The anatomy of the human body,”_ ringed a female voice in his head, a memory from an infomercial vid he got from Dr Chakwas _, “is a large and complex subject -”_ the voice halted to silence when Shepard placed a hand on his neck and pressed her lips against his.

A flow of something warm swirled in his stomach. He could get used to this kissing thing. Shepard’s lips were soft and moist and moved sensually against his lip plates. He mimicked the motion, faintly aware of his pulse galloping in his veins. When she used her fingertips to stroke a particular spot underneath his fringe, his subharmonics purred from delight.

“You like that, huh?” she said, her voice huskier than usual.

“Uh, yeah, that’s a good spot.”

“Good to know,” she whispered and leaned to the side to lick at that spot, a brief touch with her warm tongue followed by her lips, grazing his skin back to his face, moving along his scarred mandible. Garrus let out a moan and instinctively dug his rear further into the cushion of the sofa at the way his crotch plates tingled.

A tinge of worry clouded his contented state. Shepard wasn’t one to back down from unknown situations, but how would she react to Turian - Human physical differences? Where her skin was soft, his was leathery. Human blood was red, that much Garrus knew, which meant that she must be used to… Crimson penises? What if a Human penis was vastly different in shape from a Turians? What if -

“Hey,” Shepard said softly and sought his gaze. “Where did you go, big guy?”

A rush of warmth crept up Garrus’ neck.

“I, uh -”

“I think I know what you’re worried about. It’s ok.”

The warmth blazed up to Garrus’ fringe.

“It is?”

“Yes.” Shepard smiled reassuringly. “Some Humans have dextro allergy, but I don’t. I took a test."

Garrus blinked and let out an exhale. “Oh! Good. I mean - Humans have dextro allergy?”

“Some Humans do,” she corrected. “I don’t.”

Relieved that the conversation hadn’t turned to the color of his penis, Garrus relaxed and stroked her hips with his thumbs.

“Heh. Are you saying Turians could have won the First contact war by smooching Humans instead of shooting them?”

She whacked him on the shoulder with a snort. “Ow,” he chuckled, amazed to see a tinge of that lovely pink shade return to her cheeks.

“Mordin says it’s still unwise of me to digest tissue...” Her words ended in a small laugh. Behind her, Blasto the first Hanar Spectre approached the camera, unflinching despite the massive explosion of a building in the background. Shepard tapped her omni-tool, and the movie came to a halt.

Garrus’ brain first did an aha! - since he’d suspected Shepard would speak to Mordin about them and he’d been right - only to go numb. None of Dr Chakwas vids on female human sexuality hinted to anything resembling “digesting tissue”.

“Digest tissue?” he said, eyes wide. “Wait, do Humans… think it’s sexy to eat each other? Because I -”

Shepard placed a hand over her mouth and laughed. Her eyes turned into jovial slits.

“No, that’s not -” She removed her hand and gained a sly expression. “At least not that kind of eating.”

A knot hardened in his guts, from not understanding as much as from worrying. He stared into Shepard’s eyes when she placed both hands around his neck and leaned closer with what he could only describe as a low purr.

“I take it no one has sucked your dick and swallowed your cum before.”

If he had taken a sip of his beer, he would have sprayed the beverage all over the aquarium. His mind flooded with images of Shepard taking him into her mouth, between her soft lips. It was all he needed for his groin plates to separate entirely. She did a little gasp when his erection bounced against her rear underneath his pants.

“Does this mean you’re not opposed to the idea?” Shepard ground down on him in a sensual roll with her hips.

“You’d do that?” he asked in a groan, amazed. Her smile waned, and the atmosphere gained a delicate edge.

“Yes,” she said without a hint of teasing. “I want to. Will you let me?”

If Garrus had been in a state before, his mind lit with alert determination. He wasn’t going to waste another minute on conversating.

“Not until I’ve gotten you out of those clothes and made you do more of those little sounds you just did.”

“Is that a promise?”

He stood, her thighs still straddling his hips, and lifted her to the bed.

“Shit! I forget how strong you are,” she said and allowed him to place her on the velvet bedspread. He didn’t answer but kissed her again, making sure to lift his torso enough to avoid the jut of his breast bone to dig into her chest. This time, she opened her mouth and let the tip of her tongue lick his upper lip plate. It sent a shiver down his arms. When she lifted her hips and bucked against his bulge, he closed his eyes with a groan and almost let her take control.

But he had made a promise, hadn’t he?

Garrus may not be a good Turian, but when it came to things that mattered, he was a good learner. A few instructions from Dr Chakwas’ vids came to mind. He shifted his weight to one side and slid his hand under Shepard’s tank top while carefully licking a trail from her clavicle up to the skin underneath her ear. Fascinated, he observed a streak of goosebumps run down her arms, accompanied by a strangled mewl from her mouth.

That was the sound he wanted to hear. Seeking her gaze with his to gain consent, he pulled the top over her head. She lifted her arms in acceptance, her hair delightfully spilt over the bedspread and her lips gleaming. He would have kissed her again, but the exposed, soft mounds of flesh on her chest drew his attention. Garrus continued to lick down her neck and took a breast in his hand.

At first, he couldn’t focus on anything but the shocking difference between Turian women and Human women, the lack of plates and the abundance of softness. When he carefully pinched a nipple between his fingers and was rewarded by a gasp, those thoughts evaporated to being right there and then. Shepard clenched her thighs together; that must be a good sign. He needed more of that. Shifting, Garrus leaned over to seek her nipple with the tip of his tongue, rolling the other between his fingers. She moaned his name in a way that went straight to his groin, and admittedly, to his ego. He sent a brief prayer of gratitude to Dr Chakwas.

To his surprise, and reluctance, she pushed him to a sitting position with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Shirt. Off,” she said in a way that had him stifle an impulse to salute with a “yes, ma’am.” A tinge of self-consciousness settled like a small lump in his throat. He wasn’t oblivious of the way he often caught the gazes of Turian women, also after the missile he took to the face, but this was Shepard. Had she ever seen a Turian naked?

To hell with the insecurities, he thought and pulled the blue-and-green shirt he’d chosen to wear this night over his head in the upwards-backwards motion needed to get the fabric off his fringe. Her gaze roved over his torso, the metallic plates that covered his chest to his exposed midriff. She lifted a hand to stroke the ridge of the collar that stretched behind his neck to form the hump of plates that covered his back.

“Like what you see?” he said and cringed internally at how the words he intended to be sassy and confident came out sounding insecure.

“Yeah,” she whispered and embraced him, standing on her knees between his legs. She lowered her face to kiss him with a slow passion that made his heart vibrate like the fluttering wings of a bird. As lovely as soft kisses were, he wasn’t aiming for tenderness - at least not until he had reached his goal of seeing her climax.

Said and done, he lowered his hands to cup her behind and tentatively hooked a talon in the waistband of her pants. She nodded her consent, and he slid the pants down her legs, exposing black underwear and pale, smooth skin. She had freckles on her thighs, he observed with a warm wave rolling in his chest. With care, he lowered his mouth to her neck and slid a finger between her legs. The moist softness of her underwear made his blood boil. This part of her, he thought, didn’t feel very different from Turian women, apart from the way her opening was further back, something he adjusted for in his mind. She gasped and tensed; he sought her gaze with his to find a wrinkle of worry between her eyes.

“Be careful,” she said and caressed his mandible.

Of course. His talons. He hadn’t filed them, inexperienced with interspecies intercourse as he was. He made a mental note to have them filed down before their next encounter because, by the Spirits, he hoped this was not the last time he was with Shepard like this.

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” she said, still tensing.

Garrus’ courage faltered for a milli-second until an idea sparked in his mind.

“On your back. There’s something I want to do.”

It was his turn to be bossy. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, Shepard complied and lay back on her elbows, tentatively opening her legs.

“Are you going to ‘eat’ me, Vakarian?”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, I was the one who was going to do that to you, remember?”

“You can,” he said, “once I’ve tried this.” He pulled her underwear down her legs, holding back a groan from the smell of her; musky, salty, this was better than he imagined. The angle wasn’t perfect, though; he needed another way...

Placing his knees on the floor, he braced his hands on her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She let out a surprised sound that melted into a throaty moan when he lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder and licked a long stroke from her opening to the fabled button at the juncture of her sex. She tasted different; tangy, and creamy. Shepard threw her head back and lifted a hand to caress that spot underneath his fringe; he purred into her moist flesh.

“God, Garrus, that feels so good! Are you sure you’ve never -”

Her words transformed into a whine and she arched her back in abandon. Garrus circled her clit with the tip of his tongue only to dip into her heat, holding onto her hips. When she unclenched her thighs from his head, he took a moment to take a look at her, mesmerized. Her sex resembled a flower, what was its name? A rose? Glistening and swelling, just for him. He circled the spot he had learned worked like a magic button with his thumb, mindful of his talon, and dipped back inside. She was hot and pillowy there, apart from a spot of rougher flesh to the upper walls that made her exhale a desperate sound when he stroked it.

His cock twitched in response. Retreating, he peeked up at her. The sight of her biting her lip and grasping at the sheets had him groan.

“Please, don’t stop,” she said and scratched her nails against the sensitive skin on his neck.

Spirits, was he glad he mustered the courage to come to her cabin this night. He was in heaven.

Using his hand to open her, he licked at her clit. Garrus observed the glistening of sweat at her temples, the words she breathed, unknown to his translator, and the blush that spread over her freckled chest. Telling from the way her thighs trembled and the high pitch to her voice, she was close. He wanted her to come as much as he never wanted to stop doing what he did.

“Fuck,” she said, panting, “I’m close, I’m going to -”

She lifted her hips in a scream, and accurate to the lessons he’d been given, he rode her orgasm out, counting the seconds until she relaxed the arc of her back and placed her hips back onto the bed. Six. His brain sang in triumph and satisfaction at the look on her face; flushed, eyes glazed in wonder, lips red and swollen. He had to kiss her again. Only after he had climbed up and to seek her lips with his did he realize that he didn’t know if Human women enjoyed kissing after being - eaten. Her eagerness to meet him made him relax.

“Umph.” Shepard carefully pushed him up. He cursed internally. Right. She couldn’t breathe because of the pressure on her lungs from his chest plates. To his relief, she didn’t seem to mind his mishap.

“You weren’t joking about your reach,” she said and smiled against his lips. He leaned his forehead to hers, smug like a pyjak that’s managed to steal a treat. He held his breath when she stepped onto the floor - legs wobbly, he noticed with increasing smugness - and kneeled between his legs. She looked up at him, stroking the fabric of his pants.

“My turn.”

He helped her push his pants from his hips without hesitation, bolstered by the way this was turning out better than he had ever imagined. They were nailing this interspecies-relations thing, and what more, he couldn’t wait to find out what she could do with those lips of hers.

Once she freed his cock from his garment, Shepard enclosed his shaft in her hand and licked her lips in a way that had his head spinning. She didn’t seem too bothered by the shape or size of him - perhaps Human and Turian physiology wasn’t so different after all? Or maybe she had done enough research of her own not to be surprised? Spirits, her hands were warm. All those fingers that enclosed him; it was enough to drive him mad. Garrus held his breath as she leaned in closer when a voice reverberated in the room.

“Commander. ETA in twenty minutes. EDI is picking up some strange readings on the radar. Might be an asteroid field - or something worse.”

Garrus heart fell down his stomach. Shepard sighed and closed her eyes before she tapped a command on her omni-tool.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Joker.”

Her omni-tool faded. To Garrus’ surprise, she placed her hands back onto his thighs.

“Shepard, we need to get ready.”

“We have time.”

“Shep - ah!”

He drew in a breath when she licked a teasing stroke against the ridges of his cock and smiled wickedly at his reaction. “You were saying..?”

Garrus was going to protest, but all thoughts vanished at the sensation of her tongue circling his tip and her hand holding him at the base.

“Nothing,” he said in a strangled note. He placed a hand on her hair, relishing in the silky feel mixed with the warmth of Shepard’s mouth as she let her lips enclose the head of his shaft.

 _Holy spirits of the ancestors._ Garrus hardly recognized his voice when she slid her lips upwards and sucked, hollowing her cheeks, only to sink back down and bury him in the wet heat of her mouth. He wasn’t going to last long. A part of his brain sparked with gratitude that she didn’t use her teeth, but soon he was incapable of thought in favor of raw, unbridled pleasure. She continued those motions, pushing him further towards his climax with relentless fervor. Before he allowed himself to lose control, he ground out one coherent sentence.

“Shepard… don’t swallow.”

She caught his gaze and shook her head, smiling, only to return to his cock and eagerly lick his shaft while stroking him up and down with both hands.

It was that look of pleasure in her eyes, as if she was enjoying what she was doing as much as he was enjoying her doing it, that tipped him over the edge. She pulled her face back but continued stroking him, catching his seed on her chin, her chest, and her right breast. Garrus let out a strangled cry and barely registered the sound of ripping fabric from the way he clawed into her bedspread. His head spun. His legs trembled.

That was the most devastating sexual encounter he’d had. He looked at her in absolute wonder while his heart pounded against his plates.

“That was…”

“I know,” she said and rose to kiss him, a brief peck on his lips. “We need to get ready.” She wiped at her chin and took a few steps towards the small stairs by the aquarium. “I need a quick shower. Care to join me?”

Garrus stood and kicked his pants from his foot. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but that would have to wait. One last mission lay ahead, and it could change everything.

After this, things wouldn’t be the same. They were going to survive; this would not be their last night together. He’d fight the Collectors with the memory of her face as it had appeared tonight; relaxed, smiling, blushing in pleasure. He’d do anything to see her like that again.

They stepped into the shower, rinsing off the remnants of their encounter in swift motions. Despite the mission before them, Garrus was less tense than he had been in ages. He had calibrated the Normandy’s firing algorithms to perfection, and he had blown off steam with Shepard in ways he would treasure for the rest of his life.

“I’ll see you in the communications room soon”, she said before he left her quarters for the armory, holding his hand a heartbeat longer than she needed to. Both had slipped into their role as soldiers on their quest to save the Galaxy, but she let him kiss her forehead.

“Let’s go out there and kick some Collector ass.”

“You know it, Vakarian.”

He entered the lift, grinning. _That’s my girl_.


End file.
